Waiting for Light
When I was a kid, my sister and I would go bug hunting in the woods by our house growing up. We were real rough and tumble girls. One day, we found this really cool looking one and put in a little bug cage in our room.
We were so excited about this bug, but at night I had forgotten about it. Apparently it's one of those bugs that makes a lot of noise in the middle of the night. It made this obnoxious buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz so loud that it jolted me out of my sleep.
In the disillusionment of the night, in my fear and fright, in my seven-year-old brain I thought,
“I think there's a wolf sharpening a pencil in my room.”
Maybe my imagination as an artist just goes into those places, but this is what I came up with.
The next morning when I woke up and I saw the bug and thought, “That's so stupid why would I think of a wolf sharpening a pencil in the dark?”
But this is what happens to us in the dark is it not? That when we are in dark seasons of our lives, it is as confusing to us as waking up in the middle of the night unable to see the hand in front of our faces.
And fears abound in the darkness that cause our imaginations to play tricks on us like, “What if it's a wolf sharpening a pencil?”
Fears surface in the darkness. We all remember as a kid what it felt like to be afraid of the dark - or something lurking in the darkness don’t we? Ok who am I kidding - I still get scared of the dark sometimes.
What Happens When We Can’t See in the Dark?
In the daytime, we can see with clarity who we are, what’s going on, and what we need to do. We can make sense of the world around us and our relationship to it.
It is the clarity of sight gives us confidence. We know where everything is and so can avoid stubbing our toes. We can move quickly through the room because we can see what’s going on. We can see ourselves in relationship to the world us, and so can move through it with ease.
I don’t know about you, but these dark days I feel like someone turned off the lights. I can’t even grasp what’s happening, let alone the deeper meaning of what God is doing in the midst of all of this.
We cannot control what we cannot see and this is frightening to us. So, like we do as kids, our minds are left to fill in the blanks with what’s going on so we know how to deal with it.
Our imaginations can make up all kinds of ideas about what’s going on that are often grounded in fear.
It’s a wolf sharpening a pencil.
I’ll never get to pursue my dream.
This pandemic is going to destroy my family.
The government is going to fall apart.
In the middle of the night, you can’t see the hand in front of your face, let alone see the greater reason why all of this is happening. What we cannot see frightens us. What we cannot understand, we cannot control.
And perhaps this is exactly where God wants us to be. In a place of surrender. A place where we must acknowledge how blind we really are, and turn to the only one who can see in the darkness. To seek His presence as we wait for dawn.
Light and Dawn
Psalm 130 speaks of this space - the journey of waiting in those dark, cold months for God to come through with the light of spring,
“Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;
Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.
If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,
Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
so that we can, with reverence, serve you.”
This term in verse 1, “out of the depths,” is a sense of deep water and mire, closely associated to the concept of Sheol, the Jewish understanding of Hell. It is a place of ache and longing. A place of utter helplessness.
The psalmist acknowledges the darkness for what it is. Whether it is the result of his sin, the sin of his people, or sometimes it's the mess of his own making, he is in the depths.
He is in the space between sunset and sunrise. Between the Cross and Resurrection.
What does the psalmist do in that place of Darkness?.
He stays awake and present in the darkness in the pain and waits for dawn.
“I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.”
The perspective given here is that of the Levites who kept a night watch at the temple. These men would wait all night for dawn with eager expectation in order to offer the daily sacrifice--a tangible representation of God’s covenant mercy and redemption.
With them, we are encouraged to stay awake in the midst of complete darkness when confusion, fear and suffering abound and watch for the first break of day. To stay awake in the pain and wait “with our whole being,” watching for our crops sprout above ground with the light of spring
The word hope here used in Psalm 130, when it says “in his word I put my hope,” is called “yachal.” It means to wait - expectantly.
You don't wait for something that's not coming. You don’t sit and wait for a bus that's never going to show up. You don't stay up for the sunrise if you don't expect it to arise. You don't wait for the light of spring if you’ve only encountered winter.
Staying Awake
There are moments in our lives where we plead with God above the soil waiting watching for the light of spring, looking for the sunrise. We stay up and stay awake when confusion and fear and suffering abound for the first break of day.
To stay awake and present in the pain with our whole being. The Temptation is to fall asleep and to say, “I'm not sure that this Resurrection, this holy Resurrection Sunday is coming, so I'm just going to fall asleep. Because I’ve been waiting above the soil for a really long time. And you're tired, but to stay present is to stay expectant and wait for the dawn.
There is a level of trust that comes with this kind of hope that says, “I don't know how and I don't know when and I don't know what it's going to look like, but I'm going to stay awake and trust that you will bring a resurrection somehow and someway”
During seasons like this, fears often surface about whether or not the seeds we have sacrificially planted can withstand the darkness, and if our hopes will die in the soil.
Why Can We Wait?
The Psalmist encourages us in dark times to stay faithful in waiting for God to respond because, like the Levites, we know that this darkness won’t last forever. We can wait with hope for the light to come. Why?
Because God has promised it will, and He is trustworthy. Whether on this earth or on the earth to come, God assures us that His full, complete redemption is coming as surely as the dawn, as surely as the spring. It is just a matter of time. But will we hold on long enough to see it?
Will we stay awake and present in the midst of fear and darkness long enough for light to have the final word? Will we do the hard work of hope, continuing to sow and wait regardless of what we see with our eyes? Do we believe in a God who works unseen miracles that we cannot comprehend and that never disappoints?
Or will we give up and give in because we are too tired of staying in the pain, or too angry, or too calloused, or really deep down just fed up with it all? Can we hold on long enough to wait for the bridegroom to come and set all things right?
Waiting with Hope
I believe hope and light draws most near to those who are desperately grasping for it - to those who need it most. And like the Levites, when we have stayed up all night waiting for dawn, when we have stayed present in the pain – lamenting, grieving, petitioning, watching in the darkness for the first light of day, we get the privilege to witness a fierce and magnificent sight.
The grey, dark nothingness before us transforms into a vibrant, colorful landscape alive with the early morning light. We get to see the seeds we have prayed for finally sprout above the soil with beautifully bright green leaves. And we will soak in that moment with gratefulness and joy like no sleeper ever could.
